


100 Days

by nyanja14



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: April Showers 2015, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3682734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyanja14/pseuds/nyanja14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end of Yoite's life, in no particular order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	100 Days

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploaded from FFNet for April Showers 2015, unedited. This was originally written in 2009, abandoned, picked up again in 2011, and re-abandoned, haha. It was intended to be a series of 100 drabbles... I made it to 35. Therefore, although it is marked as "complete," it is really INCOMPLETE.

**001: DISEASE (1/3)**

It hadn't been Yoite's idea. He'd been quite content to stand over the kitchen sink and try to wash the blood out of his gloves. The cloth was brown and blood dried brown, so it didn't really matter much. But it gave him a good reason not to look at Yukimi.  
  
He'd been the one to call Kazuho and interrupt Yoite's washing. The two blondes had hovered over him, the sister taking his temperature and pressing a stethoscope against his chest while Yukimi waited with arms folded, trying to look aloof.  
  
Now, the siblings hung back, murmuring in the living room. Yoite reached out with a discolored hand to turn off the water, straining his ears to listen.  
  
"...hard to say... decades since the last Kira user..."  
  
"...how long?"  
  
"...tough, but... maybe four months if..."  
  
Yoite picked up his wet gloves, wringing them into the sink. He decided not to tell them that he'd actually started coughing up blood two weeks ago.  
  
 **002: MIDDLE (2/3)**  
  
There was no statistical data, but Yoite had always been good with numbers. From his best estimate, the average ninja lived to be late thirties, early forties at best. Competent ninjas, at least- there was no telling the fates that would befall ninjas who were less than so. By the time they reached the middle of their human lives, the average ninja either got killed on duty due to slowed reflexes and a weaker body, or retired and spent the rest of their days aching from old wounds.  
  
Yoite was in the middle of his ninja career, more or less. Of course, he'd only actually been a ninja for a little over a year, but no matter. Yoite wasn't interested in the fine details.  
  
Sixteen years old. Yoite did the math as he pulled his still damp gloves on.  
  
If he was lucky, he might have another hundred days.  
  
 **003: DELIRIOUS (3/3)**  
  
Kazuho finally left from her latest impromptu house call after making Yukimi swear to feed Yoite three times a day and informing Yoite himself that she'd be bringing new pills for him by Thursday. Yukimi sighed when she left, rubbing his forehead. "I've got to go eat out for my article. What do you want me to bring you back?"  
  
Yoite brushed past the older ninja, crouching down in his usual corner of the room. "Yakitori." He folded his legs up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them before letting his cheek rest atop his knees.  
  
Yukimi lowered his hand. "Oi. If you're going to sleep, why don't you do it in a bed?"  
  
Yoite shifted his head so that his bangs fell into his eyes. There was only one bed- Yukimi's. He decided not to grace the inane suggestion with a comment. Something caught in his chest and he coughed instead. No blood this time.  
  
"Or at least the couch. You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know."  
  
Yoite stared at Yukimi through his hair. The man huffed, turning to gather up the bag with all his surface job gear. "Damn brat. Just trying to look out for you."  
  
Yoite reached his conclusion as Yukimi slammed the front door closed.  
  
He was delirious.  
  
 **004: AUTUMN**  
  
Leaves littered the steps. Yoite could hear Miharu's shoes crunching through the dead things up ahead. Yoite's own feet had stilled somewhere during the climb.  
  
Usually, he liked it when the weather went cold. People stopped giving his coat and gloves strange looks when autumn came around, and by the time winter settled in most people had joined him in wearing layers.  
  
Now though, the cold air bit at his chest, squeezing his worn lungs and making him double over and clutch his knees as he tried to breathe.  
  
"Yoite...?"  
  
He lifted his head. Miharu stared down at him, eyes the only green thing for miles around.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Yoite knew the answer to that, but he wasn't going to say it.  
  
"Can you keep going?"  
  
He nodded. The wind started to pick up. Miharu reached out and Yoite grabbed his hand and let Miharu pull him up the rest of the steps as all the red, gold, and brown blew around him.

**005: OUTSIDES**  
  
Yoite had stubbornly remained in his soaked clothes until the man from the station finally went to bed. Miharu knelt down in front of him and whispered, "You need to change, you're going to get sick."  
  
"Doesn't matter." He was already sick.  
  
"Yoite..." Miharu reached out as though to touch him, but hesitated. "You can change in the bathroom. And it's dark out here. I won't look."  
  
Yoite tightened his arms around his legs. The rain had chilled him all the way to the bones and he could tell that his fever was worsening. Miharu hadn't said it, but Yoite read it in his face: you promised me you wouldn't die.  
  
Silently, he rose to his feet, toed his shoes off, and stripped his gloves. He considered his options. He didn't want Miharu to see his body, but the bathroom was sure to have a mirror...  
  
Yoite carried the clothes the man had left into the bathroom. He locked the door behind himself, but didn't turn the light on. Eyes closed, he unbuttoned his coat and dragged his clinging sweater over his head. He was out of his pants and into the dry pair in a matter of seconds. It was in the middle of tugging the new shirt on that morbid curiosity possessed him.

Yoite raised his head up and stared into mirror, eyes clinically examining the spread of discoloration across his chest. The dark, bruise-like patches didn't disturb him like they should've. Yoite had never liked his body. When he was younger, the doctors had studied his reproductive organs inside and out and deemed him to be mostly female But as he got older, no period ever came and breasts failed to take shape-- his shoulders widened and his voice dropped instead.  
  
Yoite went to clasp his scarred neck, but his hand jerked in reflex to cover his mouth as he choked on blood.  
  
All his body ever did was betray him.

**006: HOURS**

In the early days, Yoite spent all of his non-assignment time crouched in the corner of Yukimi's living room. Hours would pass, and Yukimi would return from his surface job and find that Yoite hadn't moved an inch since he'd left.

"Don't you get bored? Find something to do, you're wasting your time. Tch!"

All Yoite had was time.

When Yukimi was there- typing, cooking, cleaning, nodding off in his computer chair and about to fall over- Yoite spend the hours watching. He'd track the man's hand as it brushed through his hair, observe the way he hunched his shoulders tensely, follow him with his eyes as he crossed the room with soft, firm footfalls. Yoite was sure Yukimi could sense his staring- he was a ninja, after all- but he never commented.

Yoite studied Yukimi. He'd never had the chance to watch a man closely before. His father had never been home and he wasn't often allowed outside. When Hattori took him in, all the nurses treating him had been female, and he had trained alone. So, he paid close attention to Yukimi's movements and practiced mimicking them in the dark.

It was time well spent.

If he was ever going to make the hesitant questions and backward glances stop, he'd have to pass as something. Yoite didn't know what he was, and in the early days, Yukimi was the closest example of "normal" that he had.

**007: WAFFLES**

Yoite stared at the soft, square, spongy things stacked in front of him.

"Uh, what exactly are these?" Yukimi asked, poking his portion with a fork.

Gau shot him a dirty look. "They're waffles, of course. Haven't you ever had them?"

Raikou was already delicately dissecting his waffles into smaller squares, eating silently.

Yukimi leaned back on his palms. "I don't like Western food that much."

Brandishing a spatula, Gau growled. "Well, they're not for you anyway! I made them for Yoite-kun's birthday."

Yoite looked up from his food. Birthday? Yoite himself didn't even know for sure when exactly he'd been born.

It'd never been celebrated before.

Gau caught Yoite's heavy gaze and flushed. "You don't- you don't have to eat them if you don't want to! I just wanted to try out the new iron I bought and there's no point in only making enough batter for two people! And your file said today was your birthday, so-" He made a huffing noise and folded his arms, eyes directed determinedly at Yukimi's note-covered wall.

Raikou swallowed, then said softly, "They're good."

Gau flushed darker.

Yoite sat and tried to remember his age. Was he turning sixteen, or had he already been that old? Maybe he was already eighteen and he hadn't even noticed.

Yukimi took a bite of his waffle and frowned in distaste. Setting his fork aside, he pushed his plate over to Yoite before standing and stretching. "Thank for breakfast, but I'm not that hungry." He paused, then looked down at Yoite and rubbed the back of his neck. "Happy Birthday."

Yoite stabbed his fork through the top waffle and bit a large chunk out of it.

It was his first.

**008: SILENCE**

Yoite knew three kinds of silence.

One: the sound that reached his ears too often lately. Yoite could see their mouths move and feel the vibrations in the air, but he did not know what was being said, except for the barest phrases.

Lip reading became an essential skill.

Two: the noise Yukimi made when he was worried. Yukimi's hand would clutch his temple and he'd stare down at Yoite and open his mouth, but words always seem to fail him. Instead, he would just growl something then point to the food on his plate, or the medicine on the counter, or the couch he was always trying to get him to sleep on. Yoite wished he knew what the man was going to say, but he thought he had a pretty good idea, based upon the way Yukimi would kneel down and check his temperature when he thought Yoite was finally drifting off.

Yoite always tried his hardest not to lean into the kind touch.

Three: the gift Miharu had given him. Yoite waited and waited for the questions to come from Miharu's lips. He knew exactly what they would be, knew the answers to the wondering in Miharu's eyes. But Miharu always bowed his head and looked away, somehow understanding that Yoite couldn't bear to speak of any of it.

That silence meant more to him than the whole world, and he feared what would happen should he break it.

**009: TECHNOLOGY**

Yukimi must've figured out that he couldn't hear anything over the phone, because he always messaged Yoite instead.

Yoite squinted at the tiny screen. This was the ninth. He almost pressed the button that would let him read it, but thought better of it and flipped the cover closed. He clenched the small phone to his chest, and wondered when Miharu would be back with the food.

Yoite knew that Yukimi was no doubt frustrated by Yoite's ignoring him. But he couldn't reply to the messages if he didn't read them, and Yoite didn't think he could bear to see what the text had to say.

He regretted accepting the cell phone. This tangible proof that Yukimi was concerned... he didn't know what to do with it.  
  
 **0010: COOKING**

Yoite never would've expected that Yukimi knew how to cook. It seemed too... domestic of a chore for the older ninja to perform. Not that Yukimi cooked often- usually his time was spent either typing on his computer or out on assignment, whether it be for the surface world or not- and when he did, he sped through the process, skipping steps and turning up the temperature haphazardly. But the ending product was always good, and the apartment would smell like food for the rest of the day.

Yoite liked it when Yukimi cooked. He was surprised to find that he didn't even mind that much when Yukimi made him help.

"Oi, don't just sit there like some big rock, get over here and chop these carrots."

Yoite rose wordlessly and cast a glance at the pile of vegetables waiting for his knife. He shed his gloves-- while Yukimi indulged nearly all of his habits, Yoite had quickly learned that he was not allowed to touch food with his gloves on-- and washed his hands, ignoring the discoloration that had begun at his fingertips.

Yoite had no idea what they were cooking, but whatever Yukimi was frying on the stove smelled nice.

Yoite's step-mother had always told him that he wasn't allowed to cook- his hands were to dirty, and it wasn't like Yoite was going to get to eat any of it anyway.

Yukimi always demanded that he helped.

Yoite picked up the first carrot and got lost in the chopping and the surreality of it all.

**011: RED (1/6)**

Later, Yoite wouldn't remember what they'd been arguing about. All he knew was that raising his voice had been a bad idea.

He hacked into his gloves, splattering them with blood, and doubled over from his chest's convulsions. He could hear Yukimi yelling, but with no oxygen to his brain everything was getting foggy.

Later, Yoite would be horribly embarrassed, but at the time he was too tired to care that he was breaking his own number one rule.

Yoite collapsed and fell forward into Yukimi, who immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him up. He coughed and coughed until he thought his lungs were torn beyond repair. Finally, he was able to breath, and he leaned against Yukimi, panting. His cheek pressed into something wet, and when he opened his eyes, they were met with red.

"...I got blood on your shirt," he mumbled.

One of Yukimi's hands was running up and down Yoite's back. "Tch. Just be more careful next time."

"...Aa." He closed his eyes again, too weary to get up.

Later, Yoite would blame the blood loss. It was the only explanation he had for his lack of protest when Yukimi pulled him closer to hold him.

**012: ORANGE (2/6)**

When Yoite woke, it took him several moments to figure out where he was. It was the picture frame on the dresser that signaled alarms in his blurry mind.

This was Yukimi's room, Yukimi's bed.

Yoite pushed himself up onto his arms, struggling beneath the weight of the comforter. He'd gotten a foot on the floor when the man himself opened the door, bearing a tray on one arm. Yukimi narrowed his eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

Yukimi set the tray on the dresser, then bent down to grab Yoite by the ankle and swing his leg back onto the bed. Yoite opened his mouth to protest, but wound up coughing instead.

"See? Damn brat." Yukimi pushed Yoite's shoulder, forcing him back down. "Just rest."

Breath finally under control, Yoite got some words out. "There's field work—"

"You think I don't know?" Yukimi was examining a new box of cough syrup from the tray. "You're in no condition to work today. Raikou volunteered to fill in for you and give me a hand."

Raikou did? Yoite watched the older ninja pour out two tablespoons of the glossy liquid in quiet disbelief. Why would Raikou do that? More warning bells rang in his deafening ears.

Yukimi held out the spoon and Yoite reluctantly opened his mouth to accept the medicine. "That Tenpa-kun of his is staying here to make sure you stay in bed. And Kazuho is coming over to see you when her shift at the restaurant ends."

Yoite would've glared, but he found he was too tired to manage it. He turned his head away, hand clenching the sheets. He'd finally identified the source of the rising sense of danger in his stomach.

These people weren't supposed to care for him.  
  
 **013: YELLOW (3/6)**

When he was eight, he'd gotten the flu. Every part of him had ached, and he'd been too scared to fall asleep because he worried he'd stop breathing. On the second day, Tsukasa heard him sneezing and came down to the basement with miso soup and medicine he'd bought from the drug store with his allowance. He visited again on the third day, and on the fourth, and on the fifth Tsukasa became sick as well.

After that, he was denied food for a week and Tsukasa was no longer allowed in the basement where the shinigami dwelled.

Yoite wondered when Yukimi and all the others would realized that all he could do was cause pain.

"Here."

Yoite turned his head and came face-to-face with a steaming mug of lemonade. He accepted it from Yukimi, wrapping his hands around it tightly, but didn't drink.

"After the mission, I'm supposed to stop by the editor's office to pick up some materials."

Yoite nodded, sinking a little further into the pillows.

Yukimi screwed the top back onto the cough syrup and picked up the tray. "But I'm gonna come back here and make chikuzenni instead, so you'd better be well enough to eat it."

He couldn't stop himself from turning to stare at the man. Yukimi scowled awkwardly and headed out of the room. "Okay? So get some sleep."

Yoite lifted the lemonade to his lips to conceal his grin.

**014: GREEN (4/6)**

After that, Yoite slept through most of the day.

He dreamed of baseball diamonds- sheer green and the same length down every side. Yoite had always thought there was something perfect about them. Or perhaps that had been Tsukasa. Yoite had never been able to live up to the symmetry of a baseball diamond, nor could he aim to achieve Tsukasa's status as _normal_. He didn't resent him for it; that was just the nature of things.

Yoite woke some time around noon. Yukimi had left with Raikou, and Gau could be heard cleaning in the living room, grumbling about the mess. Yoite listened for a while, but the weight of Yukimi's comforter on his chest tugged him back to sleep.

He dreamed of Miharu, bright eyes watching him carefully, though Yoite didn't know what kind of care it was or where it came from. Miharu was telling him something, but he couldn't hear. Nevertheless, Yoite found he couldn't be concerned about whatever it was he'd missed. He just trailed alongside Miharu, the tall grass blowing against his knees, and didn't bother to hurry.

Yoite woke again sometime in the evening. Raikou's head was hovering over him, smiling gently and telling him that the chikuzenni was nearly done and that Yukimi-senpai would worry if Yoite-kun didn't eat.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but next he found himself kneeling at the table, staring down into a big bowl of chikuzenni. Yoite blinked. He never ate at the table.

Then again, he usually never slept in a bed either.

It was all strange, but Yoite found he was calm. He began to eat- slowly for him- with Kazuho on one side and Yukimi on the other. Raikou was kneeling across the table from him, with Gau eating on the couch just behind the samurai. The chikuzenni was good, too good to ruin by questioning the domesticity of the entire scene.

He could let it trouble him some other time.  
  
 **0015: BLUE (5/6)**

Yoite was weightless, as though he was being lifted into the sky. It felt like dying.

Yoite panicked, opening his eyes and grasping a hold of the first thing his hands found.

A shirt.

"Oi. Relax, we're almost there."

His chest heaved. Yoite stared down at the floor, then twisted his neck around to find Yukimi's face in the dark.

"...Put me down."

The man ignored him, nudging the door open with his foot and crossing the small room smoothly before depositing Yoite onto the bed.

"I don't want to sleep here."

Yukimi pushed him down by the shoulder and threw the comforter over his head.

"Just another night, alright?"

Yoite glowered beneath the heavy blanket.

There was a pause, then the corner of the mattress dipped where Yukimi sat.

"Sleep is good for you, and _good_ sleep works best. Understand? ...Everyone's been worried, so get better, you damn brat."

The bed rose up again. There was the briefest of touches to Yoite's covered head, then the door clicked closed and there was nothing but the quiet of the night.

There was a tightness in Yoite's chest that had nothing to do with his illness. Yoite almost didn't recognize the feeling.

He wanted to cry.

He closed his eyes instead.

**016: VIOLET (6/6)**  
  
Yoite dreamed again, though he did not remember what of upon waking. The only things leftover from the dream was a feeling of deep stillness and an image of Miharu, head bent under the weight of a heavy crown.

_Miharu._ He needed to see Miharu.  
  
Yoite peeked out from under the covers, squinting at the clock on Yukimi’s dresser until the numbers sharpened. It was early, but the bus lines would be starting soon. If he caught the first bus, he could be in Banten by nine.

Yoite pushed himself upright. His arms trembled a little, but all in all he felt much improved compared to yesterday.

He stepped over Yukimi, snoring in a futon, and crept out of the bedroom. Gau was asleep on the couch, so Yoite pushed the creaky closet door open slowly. He fumbled in the darkness until he found a fresh set of clothes, then changed quickly in the bathroom.

He stepped into his shoes and was almost out the door when it occurred to him that he didn’t have any bus fare. Yukimi kept some bills and change inside a jar in the kitchen labeled FOR EMERGENCIES. This wasn’t exactly an emergency, but Yukimi had never said anything to Yoite about the money he’d lifted from it before, so Yoite figured he didn’t mind.

Yoite entered the kitchen, then stopped. Raikou was seated at the table, face buried in his hands. Yoite couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not.  He hesitated, then edged carefully around the table and dipped his fingers into the jar. He stuffed the money into his coat pocket. He turned around and found Raikou watching him.

Yoite met his stare, body stiff. Raikou unnerved Yoite a little because he found the samurai extremely unpredictable. There was something… unstable about him, and Yoite had learned early in life to steer clear of those types of people.

Finally, Raikou broke the silence.

“Do you have your cellphone?”

Yoite nodded slowly.

“Be careful then.”  
  
Yoite nodded again, then brushed the older man. He swept out of the kitchen, out of the apartment, and down the stairwell. He was tempted to run, but his lungs still hitched on every other breath. No matter. Yoite knew Miharu would be there, waiting.

**017: TERMS OF ENDEARMENT**  
  
He stretched his arm out, reaching as far as he could, but his fingers still just barely touched the shelf. He gave up and frowned. He already had a nice stack of books, but he really wanted to read this one. It was just his luck that it was tucked away on the top shelf. Maybe if he found another step stool and stuck it on top of this stool...  
  
"Do you need help, sweetheart?"

He jumped and spun around at the interruption, nearly falling off of his perch. An older woman with a line-etched face smiled down at him. _Sweetheart?_ He stared at her for a moment before blinking and remembering her question. "Yes, please."  
  
She moved close and he couldn't help but stiffen. But the woman didn't touch him-- she just reached up and brushed her fingers against the book's spine.

"This one?"  
  
He nodded and she tugged the book out and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said, clamoring off of the stool and stacking the book with his other selections.

"Is you family new to town?" the woman asked suddenly.

He froze, still bent over the books. "...No," he answered cautiously.

The woman noticed his discomfort. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just that I work at the school, but I don't recognize your face."

He relaxed, but only a little. It was a small town with only two schools, so her explanation made sense. Still, he couldn't help but be nervous towards any stranger that loomed over him. "I'm sick," he explained, providing the answer that his father had drilled into him ever since he was old enough to lie. "So I study at home."

The woman glanced down at his library books skeptically. "You study trigonometry?"  
  
He flushed. He had hardly grown at all in the last few years, so he knew he didn't look his age. Tsukasa was a head taller than him now. He'd never stood close enough to any of his other step-siblings to measure himself against him, but he knew that there were all older and taller than Tsukasa.

"I like math." He hefted the books off the floor, clenching them to his chest. "Thank you," he murmured again before walking towards the checkout counter.  
  
"Have a nice day, sweetheart."

That word again. He paused and turned to look at the woman. She smiled and waved a little at him. He dipped his head in an awkward nod and then forced himself to continue forward.

No one had ever called him that before.

**018: EYE (1/3)**  
  
The Shinrabanshou was here. There was no mistaking the wild aura twisting and pulsing around the boy. Yukimi and the others hadn’t noticed, but the _ki_ dripping from Yoite’s body made him hypersensitive to people’s presences.

Yoite regarded the Shinrabanshou bearer carefully, trying to still his rapid thoughts. He could probably take the bearer now—from what little Yoite had observed of his battle skills it was obvious that the boy was largely untrained. But the man he’d engaged earlier was a different story. His unsealing technique was troublesome and he certainly wouldn’t let Yoite kidnap the Shinrabanshou without a fierce fight.

And much as Yoite hated to acknowledge it, he was tiring fast. The _hijutsu_ was his only chance of fulfilling his goal. He couldn’t afford to be hasty.

Yoite raised his hand, mind made up. He fired a fragment of his _ki_ , sinking it deep into the boy’s right eye. The best thing to do for now was to wait… and observe. 

**019: VISION (2/3)**  
  
Yoite had never tried to look through another’s eyes with _kira_ before, but it had been mentioned in the technique’s scroll by a previous user. There was no reason to believe it wouldn’t work. Still he was a bit startled when he closed his eyes, reached for the thread tying him to the Shinrabanshou bearer, and suddenly found himself staring through the fingers of a small hand.

_My hands used to be that small_ , he thought. And then, _This is the hand that will free me._

 

But only if he was careful. So Yoite watched.  
  
The connection was too draining to maintain continuously, so he let the vision fade in and out. Even those flashes were enough to determine that the boy was not safe. When the bearer was not staring at his textbook or out the window, he was catching quick glances of a weathered-looking man with hungry face.

 

Yoite couldn’t allow the Shinrabanshou to fall into some stranger’s hands.

 

As the bearer climbed stairs towards a family restaurant, Yoite climbed aboard the last bus running to Banten. By the time the boy was packing his backpack for another day of school, Yoite was lurking in an alley, ready to tail him. His body was tired, but his mind was so, so awake.

 

Who was that man? He had to be a ninja if he had an interest in the Shinrabanshou, but from what tribe? Some traitor in Banten? Iga, Fuuma? Or had the other tribes also learned the identity of the Shinrabanshou bearer?

 

Yoite didn’t know. He didn’t like not knowing; going into battle was never a good idea when you had zero information.

 

Then the hungry man made his move and Yoite’s anxiety transformed into anger.

 

He was seconds away from bursting into the gym when the girl with the _katana_ crashed down from the ceiling. The strange, white-haired boy emeraged just after with a pair of _kunai_ to the man's neck and Yoite knew the immediate danger had passed. But the rage that had rushed through him at the sight of the bearer's blood refused to be still.  
  
He was almost glad when the ninja escaped.  
  
Yoite followed the man. He was a panting, stammering mess, but just moments ago he had threathened Yoite's only wish. Maybe he would be a threat again. Maybe he would not. It did not matter to Yoite or his angry, pounding heart.  
  
He approached the man from behind, then raised a finger to the back of his skull.  
  
"The Shinrabanshou is mine."

**020: IN SIGHT (3/3)**  
  
Yoite waited for the older woman to go to bed. He had no idea if she was a ninja or not, but there was no need for her to be involved. She tidied up the restaurant, flicked the lights, and headed up the stairs. She hadn’t even locked the door. Probably not a ninja then, Yoite decided. If she was aware of the world of Nabari, would she have left the Shinrabanshou so unprotected?

Not that a locked door would’ve done much to stop Yoite.

The two ninja that had protected the bearer at his school were much more cautious. They were upstairs with him now, he was pretty sure. The last time Yoite had looked through the bearer’s eye he was just doing his homework, but Yoite had seen them go into the restaurant and he hadn’t seen them leave.

Just two wouldn’t be much of a problem.

Yoite slipped into the restaurant and padded up the stairs quietly. The Shinrabanshou’s contorting presence was softer than it had been at the Fuuma’s village, but Yoite could still sense it around the bearer easily as he ascended.  Next, the girl’s. A bit wild, but unremarkable in comparison to the bearer’s. Finally, Yoite felt the aura of that odd, pale boy. He’d noticed the strange stillness of his _ki_ at the village, but he hadn’t had time to focus upon it then.   
  
He stopped now at the top of the stairs. The boy's _ki_ did flow, but sluggishly and almost resistant. Yoite had never felt anything like it before and he didn't know what to make of it.   
  
Yoite did know that he could disrupt and manipulate the boy's _ki_ and that was all that really mattered.   
  
He was pressed up against the door of the bedroom, the girl's panicked voice clearly audible. Yoite needed a line of sight before he could fire. He touched the door knob, body tense and ready, but then he paused.  
  
Was that... a fourth presence in the room?  
  
It was so muted and dull that Yoite didn't think it could be human. But he'd never come into contact with an animal's aura that made an impression like this against his own leaking _ki_.  
  
Yoite hesitated. He really hated going into a fight with an unknown variable like this. It was risky, and Yoite didn't have much life left to be taking lots of risks. However, that man with the formidable unsealing technique might be back before Yoite could get another shot at stealing the Shinrabanshou bearer away.  
  
And the longer he stood out here, the more likely it would be that one of the ninja inside would feel him.  
  
Yoite readied himself, then opened the door. He shot at the girl and the boy before they could even turn around and they slumped the floor listlessly. He searched for the fourth presence but only saw a white cat sitting beside the bearer at the desk. The cat hissed at him, ears flat against its head, but Yoite ignored it.  
  
There was no one else. The Shinrabanshou bearer was his.

Yoite closed the remaining distance between himself and his prize. The boy started and looked up from his homework. His eyes met Yoite's, wide and scared for all his passive playacting.  
  
Finally, Yoite's goal was in sight.  
  
"Good evening."

**021: DISTRACTION**  
  
Yoite woke up from a nap on Yukimi’s couch. Miharu was sprawled along the apartment floor, scribbling idly on some paper. Yoite blinked to clear his vision and recognized quadratic equations printed across the sheet.  
  
Miharu noticed Yoite’s attention and glanced backwards at him. “Grandma said my homeroom teacher left all this work for me to make up,” he explained. He looked back to the homework and scrawled something. “I figured I might as well do some of it in case I go back to school anytime soon.”  
  
It had never occurred to Yoite that Miharu was supposed to be in school. School had always been a distant concept to Yoite—someplace for other people to go to, something he was aware of but had never experienced.  
  
He stared down at the equations. Miharu had only done four so far and his answers were all wrong. Yoite didn’t bother telling him though; Miharu probably didn’t care.  
  
Yoite had no idea how much school a student was allowed to miss, but he had no doubt that Miharu was probably in some sort of trouble. An awful, unfamiliar feeling started squirming somewhere in his chest, but he squashed it down. He had no use for extra emotions. Not now, not when he was so close to the end.  
  
Yoite closed his eyes tiredly. Maybe Miharu would be going back to school soon.  
  
 **022: TRAINING**  
  
The blind woman, Ichiki, had been put in charge of supervising his _kira_ training. Yoite thought she was a little scary—that perpetual, dishonest smile unnerved him. Still, he was relieved that it was her and not Hattori watching him.

“There hasn’t been a new _kira_ user in quite a long time,” she told Yoite when she first handed over the scroll. “And he was much older than you and already had many years of training in other ninjutsu.”

“I’ll work hard,” Yoite murmured. The end that met _kira_ users was the closest thing to erasure he could possibly obtain. Of course he’d work hard.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Ichiki said with a small laugh. “I just wonder if you have the type of temperament necessary to utilize the kinjutsu.”

Yoite didn't know what kind of temperament she meant, but it quickly became obvious that he didn't have it.  
  
He learned how to direct his _ki_ quickly enough and soon after that he could snap fragments away from himself and shoot. He could make regular objects burst and break with no problem.   
  
But whenever his broken _ki_ brushed against the dim life force of the rats Ichiki brought, it would scatter and dispel uselessly.

That frustrated Yoite. Not so much because of the wasted life—that was the point of mastering _kira_ after all. But because he’d never been bad anything before, at least nothing he’d really set his mind to. So he reread the kinjutsu scroll again and again, trying to absorb whatever piece was missing from his knowledge.

It was no use. Each session Ichiki would bring out the same rat and at the end of each session it would be huddled in the corner of its cage, frightened and frozen but still alive.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Ichiki said. It was still early in the session, but Yoite was already panting from the recoil of so many aborted shots.

He shook his head and raised his hand to point at the creature again. He breathed deep and readied himself, staring down the rat and sharpening his _ki_. He broke the fragment away and fired as the door opened.

“Ah, Leader.”

Yoite jerked just as he touched the rat’s aura. His _ki_ cleaved into it and tore and the rat made a noise not unlike a human scream.

Blood.

Yoite’s knees buckled and he found himself on the floor, staring numbly at the red mess where the little creature had been.

“I understand there’s been some trouble.”

Yoite closed his eyes

“Yes, there had been. But it seems like we might have hit a break through.”

“Well, it’s always been my belief that the first kill is the hardest.”

Yoite felt Hattori’s gaze on him, so he forced himself to meet the man’s steely eyes.

“I trust that mastery will not take much longer now?”

He managed to maintain the contact as he nodded, but Yoite made no effort to move from the floor. He was frozen.

**023: STRAY**  
  
The cat was too old to be a baby, too young to be an adult, and too thin to still be alive. Despite that, its frail chest lifted and lowered, once, twice, again and again.  
  
“She was outside the building,” Yukimi explained. He’d left about ten minutes ago to head into the office of a magazine he worked for, but instead he’d come back up the stairs with the pitiful creature wrapped in his arms.  
  
“I’d take her to a vet, but I don’t think there’s anything that can be done…”  
  
 _You should have just left it outside_ , Yoite thought. But he didn’t say that. Yukimi wasn’t the type of person to consider such things.  
  
Yukimi was in the kitchen calling his sister Kazuho now, but Yoite knew it was no use. Kazuho was a good doctor, but Yoite could feel the cat’s weak _ki_ fluttering against his own. The cat was in pain and it wasn’t going to make it through the night.  
  
Yoite reached out with the _kira_. He’d never tried to kill anything gently before, but he knew almost instinctively how it could be done; he enveloped the cat’s life pulse in his _ki_ , like cupping hands around a butterfly, and squeezed once.  
  
The haggard cat’s chest rose once more, then fell. After that, all was still.  
  
Yoite slipped out of the apartment before Yukimi could return from the kitchen. He didn’t want to witness the man’s reaction to the death of a stray.  
  
 **024: GRATITUDE**  
  
“…Yoite-kun.”

Yoite looked up and saw a plate of cake thrust in his face. He wasn’t really hungry—never was anymore—but he took the plate anyway to at least get Gau away from him.

But Gau stayed.

“You may not be able to taste it, but maybe you can smell it. I tried making it with a strong vanilla aroma.”

Yoite nodded but the boy persisted, face flushing fast. “Ah... uh... umm...”

He trailed off, then clenched his hands. “Thank you... for helping me.”

Yoite lowered his gaze. This, whatever it was, was something else he didn’t need. He already had enough feelings of his own and as each day went by he found it harder and harder to hold them in. He didn’t need other people stacking their own feelings on top of the teetering mess.

Gau seemed to realize what he’d just said because he pulled back, stammering “J-just kidding! You'll probably say you only did it because you need me to find Kumohira-san.” The boy continued blathering, face so pink that Yoite thought he might faint.  “I know that. And of course that's fine. I've heard that's just how you are. But...”

His voice broke and Gau huffed and turned his head away. “...Thank you,” he finished.

Yoite stared at the cake. It looked good, like the desserts Yukimi brought back from bakeries he’d taken photos at. And apparently it had been baked especially for him, never mind the fact that the cake was supposed to be for Miharu’s birthday. That was… nice.

Yoite didn’t need extra emotions, but maybe this was the kind of emotion that was okay to want.

He gave in and brought the plate up close to his face.

“...It smells sweet.”

**025: SOMETIMES**

Usually when Yoite falls asleep he is too exhausted to dream. He just lies down and fades out until something wakes him again. But sometimes when he closes his eyes, terrors find him. Screams as his body is torn in two. The cutting chill of a blade kissing his throat. Buildings falling past him, too fast too fast, too fast. The leader with his stiff handsome face and his cruel fingers pressing into him, into places that Yoite hates but are still _his_ —

Yoite wakes up alone. His eyes and breath are wild and he looks around to assure himself of this. Alone. His harsh breath turns into a gasp and then a sob and Yoite curls up tight, bony knees tucked against his chest.  
  
He doesn't sleep the rest of the night. He just listens to Yukimi's soft snores coming from inside his bedroom, eyes wide open and refusing to cry.

**026:** **CANDLE**  
  
The apartment lights flickered a moment, then went out. The computer also shut down with a harsh snap.  
  
"Agh, dammit!" Yukimi banged his palm on the desk, then rolled back in his chair. "That better have auto-saved!"  
  
Yoite watched as Yukimi prowled across the living room, stepping deftly over the piles of junk scattered about, until he reached the kitchen.  
  
"I know I have candles in here somewhere..." Yoite listened to Yukimi's clattering as he fanned out his fingers in front of his face. He could barely find the outlines of his hand; all he could see was a smudge, a sort of haze, where he thought his body ended. In the dark, the boundaries separating Yoite from everything else blurred and dissipated until he wasn't even sure if he was still there.  
  
To Yoite, darkness was not quite comforting but it was close.

"Ha! Found one." Yukimi emerged from the kitchen and strode over to where Yoite was sitting. He shoved a stack of magazines and mail out of the way with one foot, then seated himself beside Yoite. Yoite heard a shuffle of papers, and then a click.  
  
The flame flared a moment before settling into a soft glow. Yukimi set the candle down between them, then propped a notebook up against his knees and started writing furiously. "The editor is going to slaughter me if this isn't done by tomorrow," he muttered around the pen cap he had clench between his teeth. "Don't ever become a writer; the pay sucks and the deadlines suck even more."  
  
"Wasn't planning on it."  
  
Yoite watched Yukimi for a bit, then looked to the candle slowly dripping wax on the floor. He knew that if he was any good with words he could get some sort of symbol out of it-- something about candles melting themselves shorter and shorter until they finally burnt out-- but instead he just stared into the light until the dark was no more.  
  
 **027: SMALL TALK**  
  
Yoite was resting on a bench when the dog came bounding up to him. It pressed it's dark nose into Yoite's left knee and he let it, not sure what else to do.

"Taro! You leave him alone!" A woman, slightly out of breath appeared and snatched the dog's leash off the ground. "I'm sorry," she panted, dipping her head in a quick bow. "He got away from me."

Yoite didn't reply immediately. He had never been good at handling strangers. "It's fine," he said finally. He looked to the dog, sitting docilely with its mouth hanging open in a lazy grin. "I don't mind."

The lady sighed and collapsed onto the bench. "I need to catch my breath." She waved a hand at the dog. "You can pet him if you want. Taro doesn't bite."

Yoite didn't want to pet the dog. He wanted to leave, but he couldn't figure out how to do so without coming off as rude. The dog was sniffing his shoes with great interest and Yoite leaned away carefully.

"Really, it's okay!" The woman directed a bright smile at him, cheeks a little less flushed. "Taro's nice, just kind of enthusiastic. Or do you not like dogs?"  
  
Yoite didn't know a lot about dogs really, The only other dog he'd seen up close before was the large, fluffy one he'd met at Raikou's surface job. Luckily, he was saved from having to comment by Miharu's appearance.

"I got coffee," he announced, sitting between Yoite and the woman. He handed a cup over to Yoite and sipped from his. "And I got directions to the bus station."

"Where are you boys headed?"  
  
Miharu smiled and starting telling some lie about an uncle that lived in Kyoto. Yoite reached down to scratch the dog's ears, glad that at least one of them could handle small talk.

**028: SUNLIGHT**

They were leaning against a tree in the park because the bus would not come for another two hours. Miharu had said that they might as well be comfortable while they waited so they wound up tucked under the shade of the tree, the weak year-end sun filtering through the leafless holes of the branches, with their legs stretched out in front of them and eyelids heavy from a long day of traveling. Just waiting. Logically, Yoite knew that every moment he spent keeping still was a moment wasted; he could feel his _ki_ trickling away, drop after drop like water dripping from a faucet.  
  
But sitting here like this with a weak sunbeam settled against his temple and Miharu just inches away didn't seem like a waste at all.  
  
Another leaf slipped from the tree and landed on Miharu's arm. He brushed it off idly. "This is nice."  
  
Yoite didn't really know what this was or what it meant, but it was nice. So he nodded, too sleepy to think of anything to say.

"We should take a nap." Miharu slumped down the tree's trunk a little further, then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "I can set an alarm. The ringtone Yukimi-san put on is really annoying, so it should definitely wake us up."

Yoite nodded again, head tilting to one side to rest on his shoulder. He closed his eyes as Miharu pressed some buttons, the phone responding with soft chirps Yoite could barely hear. "We can just stay here a while," he murmured, setting the phone aside and scooting over a bit to lean lightly against Yoite. Yoite let him, thinking that it would be nice to stay here a very long time--if only they could.  
  
 **029: SUSHI**  
  
It was a slow process. He first noticed when he started to chew a sushi roll Kazuho had brought over and realized it didn't taste quite right. He knew it wasn't the sushi-- Kazuho's sushi was always very good and her husband's was even better.  
  
Yoite chewed it slowly before swallowing. It tasted... he didn't know. Like rice maybe, but nothing else.  
  
Yukimi was watching the television, so Yoite stole a piece with extra wasabi off his plate. He ate the sushi, one hand clenched in a fist at his side. He could taste the wasabi, but it didn't make his face pinch like wasabi usually did.  
  
His hearing had been first. That started going out about a month ago. And now, his taste.  
  
Yoite pushed his unfinished plate aside. He should be excited about this. He was disappearing, just like Hattori had promised. But instead...  
  
"You're done? Already?"  
  
Yoite looked up at Yukimi standing over him, empty beer can in one hand and dirty plate in the other.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You sure?" Yukimi leaned over to grab Yoite's plate, stacking it atop his. "You're not getting sick again are you?"  
  
"I'm not." He drew his knees up to his chin, arms wrapped around his legs. He felt tired, but he always felt tired now. Yukimi looked skeptical, but he didn't push it--just disappeared into the kitchen. Yoite could hear him running the water in the sink, the dishes clacking together. He listened to everything, because he didn't know how much longer he could.  
  
 **030: ANNIVERSARY**  
  
He isn't sure, but Yoite thinks that today it has been exactly two years since that night. So when he is changing clothes in the bathroom that morning, he stops to stretch his neck out in front of the mirror and touch his throat. He keeps his eyes on the scar, just the scar, and traces it from one end to the other. It's been a long time since he last looked at it, a long time since he used a mirror at all, but it looks lighter. It definitely isn't the same red rip he saw when he first removed the bandages at the hospital.  
  
He isn't sure what he thinks about this so he closes his eyes, leans away from the sink, and puts on his sweater and then his coat.  
  
If his wish comes true, then this might be the last time he sees the scar.

  
**031: TIDES**  
  
One day without really knowing why, Yoite got on a train and rode to the town by the sea.

When he got off at the station, his feet started pulling him to the church, but he turned around. He doubted anyone there would remember him and he doubted even more that any of them could recognize him now, but he knew that if he sat down for even just a moment to look towards the windows he wouldn't be able to get up again.  
  
So he went the opposite direction, avoiding the busier main streets and walking down the outskirts of the residential district. The town had changed; the paint on the houses looked a little duller, the roads were a little bumpier, and there were almost no children outside. He'd changed too, he realized. A trip that would have taken him two hours two years ago was cut in half by his longer stride.  
  
He passed a few people whose face he thought he seemed familiar, but nobody paid him any mind; that much was still the same.  
  
It was starting to get dark by the time he reached the old neighborhood. He knew he'd have to head back soon if he didn't want Yukimi asking questions. Yukimi didn't care if he went out so long as he got back by the end of the day and didn't "hurt anybody that wasn't askin' for it."  
  
His feet slowed as he went through the neighborhood, but finally he was there.  
  
The house had changed a lot too. There was a car sitting outside. Someone had started a box garden hanging from the kitchen window. It surprised him, though it shouldn't have. He knew that someone else had moved in, knew that some other family was living here now. Still, it surprised him.  
  
He crept around to the side of the house where the barred basement window had been. But it wasn't there anymore. Someone had filed it in with brick, so neatly that it was like the little hole had never existed.  
  
He stood there staring at the spot for a long time, trying to figure out what this feeling was pressing inside his chest.  
  
 **032: WONDERING**  
  
"Yukimi Kazuhiko is the leader of the Kairoshu field performance team. You'll be living with him as well as working for him, so listen to what he says."

Tucked away in the corner of the backseat, Yoite didn't respond. He didn't really care where he was going so long as it was somewhere without Hattori. The chief seemed to have picked up on Yoite's quiet resentment because he had yet to comment on the fact that Yoite had not spoken in his presence for over a month. Not that Yoite had been much of a talker before, but Hattori was too shrewd to not have noticed the difference. He was a little surprised that Hattori was choosing to ignore his rebellion, small as it was. He never would have gotten away with rudeness like that at the old house.  
  
"Yukimi-kun's situation is similar to yours. He is not originally from the Nabari world; he came to Iga when he was about your age and entered the Kairoshu when he was twenty-three." Hattori paused and Yoite thought he might be peering at him in the rear view mirror, so he hid his face under the brim of his hat. "In addition," Hattori continued, "his sister will be your attending physician. Hopefully, however, you will not need her services for some time. For these reasons, I am entrusting you to Yukimi-kun."  
  
Yoite would not think much on this information until he'd lived at Yukimi's apartment for a few weeks and observed the man carefully. He was a very good ninja, but on a fundamental level he wasn't cut out for the work. It wasn't just his poor skills at elemental ninjitsu that told Yoite this; it was the grim set of his jaw after he was forced to shoot a young ninja that looked about fifteen on one of their early jobs together. The girl didn't die, but the troubled expression stayed spread across Yukim's face for the rest of the week.      
  
That expression made Yoite wonder what had dragged the man into the Nabari world. He wanted to ask, but Yukimi didn't talk about himself much and Yoite didn't have any right to be asking questions in the first place.  
  
But the longer in lived in the man's apartment, the more he wondered.  
  
 **033: CURIOSITY**  
  
"What are you doing?"

Yoite looked down at the voice. A little girl with her hair parted into two short pigtails was staring back at him.

"Waiting," he answered. The girl beamed at him.  
  
"Me too! I want to leave, but my brother wants to stay at the park, so Mom says we're going to stay longer." She pointed towards the playground where a younger boy was digging in the sandbox. "He's the baby, so Mom always listens to him and not me. I don't like it, but Mom says I have to learn to com-pro-mise." She sounded the word out carefully, looking up at Yoite for confirmation. He nodded and she smiled again, bouncing on her toes. "Why are you waiting?"  
  
"I'm waiting for someone."  
  
"Your friend?"  
  
Yoite opened his mouth to say no, but stopped. What was he supposed to say? "Business partner" wasn't quite right and even Yoite knew he shouldn't tell a little girl that he was waiting for the boy he kidnapped and then coerced into helping him.   
  
Before he could try to answer, a woman called out across the park. "Hitomi!" The girl clapped a hand over her mouth.  
  
"Oh, I can't talk to strangers!" She turned and ran towards her mom, looking back at Yoite to wave. "Bye bye!"

Yoite lifted a hand to wave back at her and tried to forget about the question. He couldn't deal with any more confusion or emotions, not when he was so close to the end.  
  
 **034: NOTES**  
  
He found the notepad in one of Yukimi's stuffed, unorganized drawers after spending an hour searching. It would've been a lot easier to just ask Yukimi where he kept paper and things, but he didn't want to have to explain what he needed it for.

Writing it all down, all the things he and Miharu would have to accomplish for Miharu to call upon the Shinrabanshou, made it all seem impossible. He tried to estimate how long each task would take, but the numbers only made him feel more agitated. He didn't have much longer left. There was no set timetable for kira user longevity, but he could feel his _ki_ diminishing more day after day.  
  
There was no time for procrastination or worrying. There was no time at all.     
  
 **035: HEAT**  
  
The first time Yoite killed a man with the _kira_ , he got sick to the stomach. He managed to hold himself together during the debriefing and the ride back to the apartment, but once he was there Yoite locked himself in the bathroom and retched into the toilet for half an hour. He laid on the cool tile for some time afterwards, shivering and swallowing to try to get the sour taste out of his mouth.

Yoite had felt the man's _ki_ in that instant before he cut through it with his own. It had been hot, so much hotter than the life force of any of the animals he'd practiced on. In that moment before the man's _ki_ scattered, Yoite thought he'd been burned.  
  
"Oi." Yukimi was knocking on the door. "You alive in there?"  
  
Yoite pulled himself off the floor and unlocked the door. He couldn't bring himself to look Yukimi in the face, but he could tell the man was evaluating him.  
  
"Drink this." Yukimi shoved a tall glass of water at him. "All of it, unless you want a nasty headache later. And then go to bed. There's another mission tomorrow, so you better be ready."  
  
Yoite nodded and drank obediently. He managed to finish half of it before he had to clear his throat. "Yukimi?" he rasped.  
  
"What?" He was sitting down at his desk, booting up the computer, but he turned his head to look at Yoite.  
  
"Does it..." Yoite stopped and started over, finger clenching around the glass. "Is it always like that?"  
  
"No." Yukimi turned back around to type on the keyboard and log in. "It doesn't get any easier, but you get a little better at it each time."

 


End file.
